Small Victories
by EvenstarRoses
Summary: A last exchange between Legolas and Gimli as he lay dying on the battlefield at Helm's Deep. One Shot. Rated T to be safe. R&R!


"Legolas, two already!" cried Gimli over the thunder.

"I'm on seventeen!" retorted Legolas with a wide smile as he sent another arrow flying into an uruk.

"What? I'll have no pointy ear outscoring me!" With a ferocious battle cry Gimli charged into the growing mass of orc filth.

Legolas couldn't help but laugh at his competitive demeanor. To anyone else the game between the two of them as to who could kill the most uruks could come off as sadistic but it was something the two had grown fond of. In a strange way the competition brought them closer together as friends.

With flawless transition Legolas traded his bow for his knives. In a dance of valor and elegance he cut through the uruks without so much as a hair falling out of place.

Gimli looked on in amazement at the elf. As much as he didn't want to admit it he admired the prince's skill in battle. Perhaps he could learn a thing or two from him after all. He watched as uruk after uruk fell victim to his blades' thirst for their black blood.

Legolas ducked and thrust one knife into an uruk's stomach followed by a near acrobatic series of movements that prevented any injury to befall him. One of the black behemoths approached behind Legolas' back and for a moment fear flared within the dwarf's heart until at the last moment the elf Prince whirled around slashing the uruk's throat with one of his gilded knives.

Suddenly Legolas leapt atop the wall, "Gimli! Are you just going to stare or are you going to come and aid your friend? I'm on twenty eight!" and with that the elf prince leapt back into the fray.

Gimli laughed triumphantly and ran as fast as he could manage. His desire to beat the elf in their competition burned in his belly. His ax yearned for uruk blood. Charging up the stairs, though a daunting task for a dwarf his size, he met Legolas atop the wall.

"That certainly took you long enough!" laughed Legolas as he fired an arrow into an enemy.

"Mind yourself laddie!" Gimli cried above the thunder, "I'm right on your tail at twenty five!" He buried his ax into the massive chest of an uruk, "Twenty six!"

They continued shouting their body count above the roaring thunder and howling rain. The numbers increased. Their spirits never faltered.

"Thirty nine!" Gimli shouted as he wrenched his ax free from the one of the brute's ribcage.

A minute went by without a response in how Legolas was doing in his toll. Gimli spun around expecting to see him mid-swordplay in his whimsical blade dance but he was nowhere in sight.

"Legolas!" he called.

Damn his stature! Gimli couldn't see past all the elves, men, and uruks. The blinding rain was certainly no help. Shoving though the many pairs of legs the dwarf made his way to where he had just seen Legolas.

"Legolas!" he called again. Anxiety and fear flooded his veins. His blood pounded in his ears. Lightning illuminated the scene and that's when he saw it…

There amid the death and destruction lay Legolas on his side, his chest heaving. _Please let this be some sick Elvish joke…_Gimli thought hopelessly as he rushed to his side.

Dropping his ax beside him he fell to his knees before Legolas. Dark, crimson, red stained the silk of his tunic spreading across his entire mid-section. Gimli's hands wavered above him unsure what to do.

"Gimli," his name dripped lazily off Legolas' tongue.

Gimli's frantic eyes met Legolas' calm ones. How was he maintaining his composure? How could he be so calm at a time like this?

"Gimli, I fear I will not last much longer," Legolas coughed, blood trailing his lips.

The dwarf's eyes brimmed with tears but he wiped them with the back of his hands and stood. "Not whilst I still draw breath!" Taking a firm hold in the pits of his arms Gimli dragged him toward the nearest door.

An uruk lurking in the shadows lunged toward them. On instinct Gimli reached for his ax only to remember he had left it behind. The uruk was upon them so he reached down and drawing one of Legolas' knives he drove it through the filth's heart, assuming it had one to stab.

"C'mon laddie, let's get you inside." Using his backside to push the door open he dragged Legolas behind him into the shelter of the keep.

Gimli forced a smile as he bent beside his comrade, "Let's take a proper look." He rolled up the prince's tunic to reveal a horrific sight.

A scimitar had deeply slashed open and eviscerated his abdominals. Tissues and veins were exposed and the blood poured endlessly. Stripping off his cloak Gimli did the only thing he knew to do, apply pressure. He had seen Aragorn do it countless times so it'd work. It had to…

As he pressed down the prince whimpered, crystal like tears streamed down his cheeks, "Leave it!" he cried through gritted teeth, "My time is spent, don't waste yours on me. Go! Help Aragorn."

Gimli's mind was reeling yet the world felt like it was spinning in slow motion. There was no way this could really be happening.

Legolas trembled beneath his fingertips. Gimli glanced up and his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. Legolas' usually bright face and eyes were fading. His eyes were clouding, his lips blue, his face white. He was fading and there was nothing he could do…

So he smiled… "I'm not going anywhere laddie."

Something of a smile tugged at one corner of the elf's mouth which then turned to a coughing fit where more blood fell from his lips spattering across the floor.

"I never thought-" he coughed several times "-it would end like this."

Tears brimmed once more along Gimli's eyelids. This time he let them fall silently. "Nothing's ending laddie. This is only the beginning."

Legolas' eyes fell shut and he smiled, "Right. A beginning…to what I wonder?" he summoned the strength to open his eyes again.

Gimli smiled and shrugged ever so slightly, "I'm afraid I don't have the answer to that but I'd bet my beard that it's a wonderful one. Beginnings are fresh starts, a means of starting over. Perhaps you'll find yourself on a new path in a renewed Middle Earth. One where the One Ring never existed, where orcs are just whispers in the dark, and where…" Gimli swallowed the growing lump in his throat, "…where elves and dwarves live together in peace and in friendship."

By now Legolas' eyes had once again fallen shut but his face was no longer contorted in pain, his blue lips were smiling, "Where everyone has a friendship like ours."

Gimli looked at him, slightly taken aback. Gimli had always thought of him as his friend but never had he verbalized it for fear that Legolas still thought of him as an irritable dwarf but this entire time he had thought of him as an equal.

"What was the final count?" Legolas asked weakly, his words trailing off toward the end.

Gimli shook his head, "What?"

"The final count…" his voice faltered…

Gimli chuckled softly, "You first Master Elf."

Inhaling slowly and deeply Legolas' lips parted, "Forty two…"

Gimli snapped his fingers in defeat, "I have to say Legolas you have out done me once again for my final count was forty one."

Legolas never spoke again.

Upon his last breath Gimli pulled him into his small lap. He wrapped his short arms around his dear friend and sobbed painfully into his still chest. He cursed the uruks. He cursed the stars. He cursed just about anything he could think of.

It wasn't right! It wasn't fair!

Gimli cried until he could cry no more, until his beard was soaked with tears. The loss of his friend tore out a piece of his heart. A place that would never again feel the type of love and friendship he had shared with Legolas. No, it would remain empty until the end of his days.

Legolas' face was no longer twisted in agony but at peace, the smallest of smiles resting upon his lips. Gimli laughed lightly at the thought it was due to his triumph in beating him in their competition…such a foolish competition it now seemed.

It was a victory Gimli would always let him have…even if he had been the honest victor at forty three he didn't care. In the end he had won something better than any battle's competition.

He had won eternal friendship and that was all that mattered.


End file.
